Episode III: The Confederate Prince
by mayflycommunes
Summary: Takes place in a moderately different AU with moderately different character interpretations. Tonally, a lateral move. This occurs during the Clone Wars and replaces the events of Revenge of the Sith. The story is complete.
1. Opening Crawl

The Galactic Republic is crumbling! The dastardly Separatists, led by the mysterious Sith Lord Dooku, take control of system after system as more split off into new sovereign planets. The beleaguered senators consider opening peace negotiations. There are heroes on both sides. Evil is everywhere.

Meanwhile, millions watch in fear as a faceless clone army trades fire with a ruthless horde of droids. It is a war without mercy, known on the face of every world, from the sheltered core systems to the the far outer reaches.

In a display of might, Dooku's personal flagship has appeared above the Republic Capital of Coruscant, heralded by terrorist attacks on the planet that led to the kidnapping of Chancellor Palpatine. The leader of the Senate is now aboard Dooku's ship.

As the Republic fleet gathers to turn this massacre into a stalemate, two Jedi Knights lead a daring rescue mission to recover the captive Chancellor!


	2. Far and Away

Space, vast and empty. A million stars with ten million worlds, innumerable lives spanning the galaxy. Space, teeming with life. In high orbit above Coruscant, fleets of unthinkable size mingle.

The ship's computer belched an explosive whine as Anakin fired a short burst before returning to his erratic maneuvers.

Obi-Wan's voice cut in and the simulated roar of the battled dimmed. "Anakin, there are vulture droids hanging on the other side of that frigate."

"I saw them, master."

"Very well."

He rounded towards the frigate and slowed the engines, pitching to the side as laserfire tore towards him. "R2, set the torpedo cannons at ten percent power." The droid rotated in its compartment to stare into his cockpit, whistling its confusion. "I know what I'm doing, R2." He watched R2 turn back to comply, and saw his own reflection in the glass, with a black mask of stars. He sighed.

"Captain, have your men rake the near side of that frigate. Aim for the defense batteries."

"Yes, red leader."

Other fighters roared across the frigate's flank, firing torpedoes into its side. "See R2? The captain knows not to ask questions." The droid hummed a reply as Anakin finally brought the craft to glided in a straight line towards the frigate, on a course to pass over it.

"Anakin, what are you doing?" Obi-Wan's voice cracked in. "I said—"

"There are droids there. I know…" Anakin sneered. "Master."

"You had better know what you're doing." Anakin began to respond but saw that he had cut off transmission.

As he flew across the top of the ship, weaving between the battered wrecks of batteries and firing at the remaining ones as he passed, he brought down his targeting computer. "Alright, R2, watch this." His torpedo cannon's trajectory was projected to fire a few hundred meters. R2 tagged vulture droids as radar picked them up.

First a couple. Then a dozen.

He disabled his targeting computer. As he neared the edge of the ship, Anakin pulled up, firing a barrage of torpedoes. They sputtered slowly out past the frigate, then slammed into the side of it as gravity took hold. Anakin continued his ascent and fell back, flipping the ship until it pointed straight down. As the plasma blasts cleared, his ship shot along the side, blasting apart the few remaining vultures.

"...Good work Anakin."

"I just— it's always droids." Anakin maneuvered towards the flagship. "Always droids, master."

"You should be glad it's so seldom people."

"I would still fight, if it meant defending the republic."

Obi-Wan's ship shot up to beside his. "Focus, Anakin. Focus on the task at hand."

"Yes, master."

He watched as the old Jedi switched channels. "Captain, my knight and I need you to divert the flagship's battery. Push your forces forward." Swiftly and obediently, their escort zoomed ahead, firing wildly. Battery fire tore through the first few ships, Anakin and Obi-Wan sliding just underneath them.

As they neared the hangar bay, thick blast doors began to pull close. The Jedis' vehicles pushed past the clone ships, as rank after rank was shredded. One collided with the forward battery, exploding briefly in the void. Anakin had turned off his sound simulator, so he didn't hear the scream as they screeched into the hangar bay.

He punched the release, and the lid of the cockpit flew back, allowing him to jump clear. His lightsaber was lit by the time his feet hit the ground.

Obi-Wan, having done likewise, looked around. "Up there." he pointed down the hallway, where a squad of super battle droids marched towards them. Everywhere, mechanic droids scurried away, ships abandoned halfway through fueling or repair. The super battle droids levelled their arm-mounted blasters towards them.

"Move deliberately." The master said. "Be ready to reflect, but don't let them surround us." The two stalked forward, and as they did so the droids fired. With superhuman speed, the Jedi blocked and reflected the blasts towards them. With superhuman speed, the droids blocked with the laser-absorbing metal of their other arms.

They reached the mouth of the corridor, advancing slowly now. The droids fired at their shoulders and extremities, only needing to deliver a glancing blow to create an opening. Diligently, the Jedis' sabers caught each shot. Anakin reflected one bolt into one's leg, too low to block, and it fell. By the time it could have picked itself up, they were upon them. Their blades cut through the droids, who could only block one or two blows before being caught and bisected.

For a moment, the two men stood in silence. Automatic breathing exercises took over as they scanned the end of the hallway for movement. Obi-Wan switched off his lightsaber. After a moment, Anakin did as well.

"Can you sense it?" Obi-Wan said.

"Yes." Anakin replied, and with effort he did. "A dark presence. Dooku."

"He will be with the chancellor."

"Then we'd better find him." Anakin cut into the grating of the floor, below which a service passage went on into the ship.

"Don't let your emotion get the better of you, Anakin. I sense he has grown stronger since we met him last."

"So have I."


	3. The Reason I Wrote This

The blast doors were rent open, their locks reduced to slag. Anakin and Obi-Wan stepped forward onto a raised balcony, overlooking an observation deck and, beyond the window screens, the battle around the ship. Sitting in a mockery of a throne, Chancellor Palpatine's arms were bound.

They rushed down the steps to release him. Even in captivity, his air of benevolent grace did not waver. As Anakin rushed to the lock's panel, Obi-Wan slowed and looked around the room.

"Chancellor. Are you hurt?"

But the chancellor looked past him. "Dooku."

Anakin turned to see Obi-wan backing up to him. Stepping onto the balcony, Count Dooku slid an imperious glance at him. Flanking him were two super battle droids. "Master Kenobi, Skywalker. Welcome aboard the _Invisible Hand._ Rest assured that the chancellor has been well-treated."

The two Jedi knights ignited their lightsabers.

At this, Dooku frowned, but he ignited his own, depressing the button on its elegant curved grip. "Death, then?" He stepped off the balcony and floated slowly down as the droids levelled their blasters.

Their blades ready, the two floated towards him. "We'll do it together." Anakin said, moving to Dooku's right flank.

"What are you doing?" Palpatine called to them. "He's a Sith lord!"

For a moment, the three swordsmen stood appraising each other, electric tension pulling taut. Then, the droids began firing. As Anakin blocked the first bolt, he deflected it into the space where just a moment ago Dooku stood.

But the count had tumbled towards Obi-Wan, smashing his blade out of his guard. The Jedi master recovered just quickly enough to block the next bolt and be pushed out of balance again. Anakin charged to flank Dooku, redirecting a bolt back into one of the droid's head.

They flanked Dooku now, but he seemed to never be where he should be. Every move Anakin made, whether to block, feign, or strike, always turned to cut him, but Dooku darted, never staying still.

And Obi-Wan could do little to help. Dooku did not fall for his traps, and was content to smash his saber out of place when it was well-positioned to block.

Both student and master fell away, appraising him. The remaining droid fired again, and Anakin redirected it towards Dooku, only for him to slash it away. Anakin looked to Obi-Wan, who nodded.

His master ran to Dooku, sending a set of quick stabs at him. He pivoted, knocking the blade away but engaging Obi-Wan fully. Meanwhile, Anakin clambered up the stairs and dispatched the droid.

"You have no chance, Dooku."

"I disagree." Dooku dodged back from an overhead strike from Obi-Wan, then reached forward with his free hand. The button on Obi-Wan's lightsaber depressed, and the blade disappeared.

He looked down at the harmless cylinder of metal in his hand. Dooku followed through, spinning into a kick that launched Obi-Wan into the window panel beside Palpatine's throne. He did not rise.

Anakin jumped down from the balcony, striking out at Dooku. The old man blocked and pushed him away. "It's such a shame. You have some degree of potential." Anakin stepped around him, trying to get past his guard, striking low, then high. "The dark side would have served you well."

Anakin stepped forward, pushing out. Dooku's saber deactivated, but only for a split-second as he reignited it.

"You can't be serious."

He was breathing heavily, and Dooku seemed almost bored. Whatever attack, no matter how strong or fast, was turned aside easily. Anakin blinked once, then twice. He smiled, then stepped back, holding his arms out wide. He was completely open.

Dooku watched him, confused. He held his saber out experimentally, but Anakin did not move to touch it. Finally, he swept a blow forward. Anakin pushed it away, sliding his saber down the length of Dooku's before finally slicing through his wrist. With a flourish, he cut the other.

Dooku sank to his knees, wordlessly. Nimbly, Anakin grabbed his lightsaber out of the air. He held both at Dooku's neck.

Chancellor Palpatine laughed, still bound. "Good, Anakin good." The count turned back to stare, horrified. "Kill him." Suddenly, there was no mirth in his voice. "Kill him now."

Anakin looked down at the pitiful tyrant before him, the divider of a thousand systems. This man was responsible for the death of millions already. If anyone deserved death, it was him.

"Wait." Count Dooku said, his voice hoarse with pain. "He's the Sith lord. Palpatine."

Anakin almost lowered his sabers. "Wha— what?"

"He is my master, the one that the council seeks."

"Don't listen to him, Anakin. It's… obviously a trick. He's too dangerous to be kept alive. _Do it._ "

"I… I can't. It's not the Jedi way."

"It's only natural. He cut off your arm. You should cut off his—"

Obi-Wan stirred. "Anakin." Hesitantly, he got to his feet. "Dooku must stand trial. He may be the only one who can identify his master."

"It's Palpatine." Dooku repeated, his voice growing stronger. "I can prove it."

"How?"

"I've hidden more than enough evidence throughout the galaxy. Spare me and I'll show you. He's been orchestrating this entire war, controlling both sides to bring about an end to the republic."

"This is nonsense—"

"I believed he would allow the Separatists their freedom, but now I see how little he values his servants."

"Master, this can't be."

"It isn't." Palpatine piped in, his hands straining in their bonds.

Obi-Wan thought hard. His face was one of despair, then of resignation. "That would explain the clone army's origins."

"And how that Sith we saw on Tattooine found us."

"And how the Trade Federation was allowed to embargo Naboo in the first place."

"And the strange art he keeps in his office."

They turned to face Palpatine, who smiled weakly, then frowned. "No. No, no, no. This treason—" Obi-Wan's lightsaber flew into Palpatine's hand and he cut his bonds. "will not stand." He hurtled through the air, hovering towards the exit. As he flew, he threw a bolt of lightning at Dooku. Anakin stepped forward and deftly absorbed it with the blade of his saber.

As he and Obi-Wan moved to pursue him, Anakin felt his body go very still, before sliding back into the wall. Everything that wasn't bolted down flew away from Palpatine. At the doorway he turned and smiled before departing.

After some time, Anakin found himself able to move again.


	4. Master of None

Obi-Wan walked beside Anakin up the steps of the temple. In the distance, there was silence. Not for centuries had Coruscant shut down so completely, the dim sound of sirens only establishing its emptiness.

But the temple stood yet.

Anakin tapped his hand against his side. "What will they do with him?"

"Under normal circumstances, the senate would determine his fate. Until it can reestablish order, the Jedi have some control." Obi-Wan knew that he did not answer Anakin's question. There was so much that Anakin suddenly realized he did not know. To hear more uncertain things would do no good. As Obi-Wan approached the council chambers, he frowned. To give voice to such things could harm as well.

The masters of the council were his colleagues, but there was always a distance. When he was a child, training in the lower levels, his master solved the crises of a different time. Now the stories that made up their lives had lost that bravado of youth. Now everything felt like an ending.

And Dooku had been a part of it all. His master's master. Guiding him, mentoring him. A mentor to Qui-Gon. He must have been powerful. He must, somehow, have been wise. Wiser by far than Obi-Wan, and yet Obi-wan was so confident of his beliefs. This idea of a corrupted, better man was no comfort to him.

As they came to the doors of the chambers they saw him. He had been dressed in simple black fatigues, his arms shackled in heavy metals. Above these, as well as above his feet and around his neck, bands of fabric and tech hung. Two knights flanked him on either side.

"Master Kenobi." Dooku said. "You should be proud of your apprentice. Few are as quick as he is."

"A prodigy." Obi-wan said, walking into the council chambers.

Twelve chairs marked the chambers, spaced into a circle. There sat the veterans of bitter wars and more bitter peaces. As though they were mortal men, there sat the Master Kit Fisto, the savior of Mon Calo. There sat the stony one-eyed Ki Adi Mundi, master of three styles. Mace Windu, the originator of Vaapad and the Blade of Geonosis, whispered into the ear of Master Yoda. Yoda, seemingly feeble, commanded the room. He moved slowly and spoke quietly, but there was no one there who did not sense his power.

There was an electricity in the air, a crackling hum, as Dooku was lead in. A few glared, a few frowned. A few did nothing at all. Through the window, smoke still rose from the archives and the senate building, and the fiery debris of ships were soothed. Coruscant had had many architects, but only one man who could be its destroyer.

Mace Windu spoke. "Count Dooku. You have been charged by the senate with treason and with murder."

"I am not guilty."

Windu paused a moment, pushing something back. "I… the Jedi Council is not the senate. When it reforms, evidence will be laid out. You will have a team of barristers and very convincing testimonies. After you are found guilty, you will either be imprisoned for the rest of your life, or you will be sent to a military tribunal which will decide the method of your execution." Fisto frowned at this, and Mundi turned his gaze back to watch him. "Do you understand this?"

"I do." Dooku said. "Nevertheless, I am not guilty."

"This is what the senate will do. The Jedi Council is not the senate. There is only one charge we will be investigating. You can delay them for years, but our—"

"I admit, I am a Sith."

Windu glanced back at Yoda, as if to confirm that he had predicted this farce in the chambers.

"I am a Sith. The man you know as Chancellor Palpatine is my master. His true name is Darth Sidious. For the past decade, I have aided him in undermining the Republic and destroying the Jedi Order. In his service, I have killed many and incited treason on a thousand worlds. Your laws can make me a criminal. They cannot make me guilty."

There was silence in the chamber. Obi-Wan shuddered. This was not the way this should have gone. And in the absence of other voices, Dooku continued. "You know this, I am sure. Since Master Kenobi and his padawan detained me, I have given you the location of a holocron proving all of this and much more, information that could win you the war. And yet you bring me before you. Is it to chastise or to shame me? I'm sorry, young Master—"

"That's enough." Windu said.

"—but when I surrendered my body, I did not surrender my conscience."

"That is enough." Windu stood, and when he was on his feet he realized he had nowhere to go. "I warn you Dooku, do not make a mockery of these proceedings."

Ki Adi Mundi scrolled through a datapad. "Approximately forty minutes ago, the section of the archives which you alleged contained this information was wiped. You have no means of substantiating your grandiose claims."

"But that's not true." Anakin said. "Master Kenobi and I saw the Chancellor use the Force. He is a Sith lord."

"You should listen to young Skywalker." Dooku said. "If it is not clear now, it will only become more so. I admit, it is unfortunate that you could not recover the data I gave you in time— one would expect the Jedi more capable— but I have stored other caches of information on several other worlds."

"Where?"

"There is one on Galidraan, one on Utapau, two on Mygeeto, one on Alderaan, and two on Serenno."

"You will be debriefed, and then once we have verified this information, the senate will take your contributions into account."

"I think not. You will not learn more about the whereabouts of the caches until and unless I show them to you, personally."

"That is out of the question."

"You may deliberate, if you wish. I'm not going anywhere."

Windu nodded, and Dooku was escorted out.

"This is a travesty." Ki Adi Mundi said. "A mockery of the Jedi way. We should never have allowed a Sith— and a fallen Jedi, mind you— to profane our chambers in this way."

"Disrespectful, he is." Yoda said. "But the truth, he speaks."

"Even if these caches exist, and even if he gives them to us, he is too valuable a prisoner to allow to go free, even for a moment. He is the leader of the Separatists. Without him, this war is as good as won."

Plo Koon, veteran of the Hyperspace Wars, breathed deep, his rebreather mask choking. "Remember that the Republic has just lost its head as well. I do not think we can rely on their collapsing any more than us, and remember that they can strike far behind our lines. Could we attack Serenno as easily as they just attacked Coruscant? Even Cato Neimoidia is out of our grasp."

Mundi sat even more rigid. "Of course we should have expected you to apologize for him, Plo. You always have."

"It is little surprise that you want to reject him, no matter the cost to the Republic."

"That's enough, both of you." Windu barked. "Master Kenobi, Skywalker, you captured Dooku. Do you think we should allow him to be part of the group that recovers the caches?"

"Master Windu, such an idea troubles me." Obi-Wan said. "We do not understand his motivations. Once, he was a Jedi, once a Sith. Now, he is something else."

"I disagree, Master Windu." Anakin said. "Dooku is a tyrant, but he is true to himself. He can be trusted to defend his interests, and to avenge betrayal by his master."

"Thank you. The council will deliberate on this." Obi-Wan and Anakin bowed, then stepped through the door. As Obi-Wan turned back, he saw the coiled worry of Mundi and the bitter vigor of Plo Koon. More than that, he saw the tire in Yoda's face. He remembered that Yoda had been Dooku's master.


	5. Malebolge

Padme shuddered as she walked into the office. The bas reliefs and sculptures that had once seemed tame now throbbed with silent intensity. The entire room had seemed deliberately inoffensive the dozens of times she had visited it. The kind of office that a filed-off man would occupy, having carefully stripped away any nuance of his character to achieve that mantle of broad appeal. Now she saw that it was alive. It was the twitching mind of a monster.

She stepped further in, looking through the monster's eye out to the city. Taxis and shipments had finally resumed. Her aides had shown her the cost in damage to Coruscant and the much larger cost in business lost.

Her head of staff, Horace Vancil, promised to take over the economic part of recovery, but the galaxy's capital was just assaulted. Morale had hit a new low, several planets were openly considering departure from the Republic, there were dozens of programs that no one seemed to know the true purpose of, and some of her former colleagues had drafted bills to impeach her because several senators had been killed in the attacks and their planets were not represented in the vote that appointed her.

Every part of her wanted to go back into the senate building, give up the chancellorship, and resume drafting legislation. But distrusted though she was, there was no one with the recognition needed to get enough votes behind them.

The doors murmured open. Her guards flanked Governor Bibble, only a shadow of wakefulness alighting on his face as he stumbled in, arms full of datapads. "It is most excellent to see you, chancellor." He dumped his things onto a table. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Of course not, governor. And you can still call me Padme."

He took a moment to breath. "Of course. Sorry. I hope you'll still call me Sio. Governor? Pah. In any case, I've prepared the reports you've requested."

"Excellent. I suppose we should go over the military contingencies first."

"Of course, chancellor— Padme. However, I wonder if we might discuss filling your post in the senate."

"It was my understanding that Naboo would appoints a new senator."

"They will. However, it is likely that they could be influenced by any advisements you have to make."

Padme sat at her oversized desk. "I don't have anyone in mind."

"I understand, and I know that you're likely wary of unduly influencing this process. But if Naboo appoints a new senator, they would likely be the junior senator, and the present junior senator would become the senior senator for Naboo, which you know carries some powers."

"Are—" Padme glanced past him to see if the door was closed. "You're telling me to have them remove—"

"No. Nothing like that. Merely to appoint a senator with at least eight years of prior experience, who would then take on the role of senior senator."

"Greejatus. Just say his name. You want me to put Janus Greejatus in power."

"Well, yes…"

"Why? What am I missing, Sio? I don't understand why you're saying this to me. What could possibly make you think that snivelling, xenophobic lackey is fit to represent Naboo?"

"The junior senator has just proposed granting you emergency powers, the ability to postpone elections, and the power of edict."

The air went out of her. She frowned, started to say something, then stopped. "I'll draft a message to the royal council."

"Thank you."

The door opened, and the man entered. The governor noticed the way they framed themselves, always facing each other, and excused himself quickly. They were alone, and the room seemed to hum as he ran to her, jumping nimbly over the desk and pulling her up into an embrace.

After a moment, she looked down at the reports. Many pressing problems. Some needed her say-so. But he was here. She resolved to consider this for a moment, and to believe that was enough. As the frescos and glistening-red walls seemed to throb, Padme thought once more of the lives in her hands, and then no more.


	6. Phantom

Dooku stood between Anakin and Obi-Wan, all watching as the ship that would take them to Galidraan landed. New hands of clipped steel rested between restraints, and his metal collar was grimly clasped around his neck. A man used to finery wore plain dark fatigues. A man used to fighting had no weapons. A man used to sensing the world around him was cut off from the Force.

And yet it was the other two who seemed his prisoner. When Obi-Wan had explained the Force-dampening effect of his collar, or the remote for detonating either it or his new hands, Dooku had seemed almost impatient. Everything seemed terribly, regrettably part of the plan.

"Did they tell you what happened on Galidraan, boy?" Dooku said. Anakin pretended not to hear. "The Republic sent the Jedi to fight a war. An army, they sent. But it was not an army that returned."

"The Jedi were protecting political activists against rebel holdouts." Anakin said. "Separatists before our time."

"Your understanding is characteristically inaccurate. Galidraan's governor had hired the Mandalorians to kill dissidents, and only revealed their location to the Republic to avoid paying. We died at the beck and call of a tyrant."

"You cannot blame the Republic." Obi-wan said. "They were deceived by a man whom they had no reason to suspect."

"I can. This Republic tries to grasp the whole galaxy in its claw. If it held only what it could oversee, much bloodshed would be avoided."

"Even then—" But Obi-Wan cut Anakin off.

In silence, they escorted Dooku to his quarters. They proceeded to the bridge, engineers preparing the ship for flight.

"Master, I fear Dooku remains dangerous, even without his lightsaber."

"It is the way of the Sith." Obi-Wan said. "Remember always that they try to deceive you, to move you in ways you would not normally act. Whatever Dooku says, no matter how reasonable it seems, is tainted with deception."

"That is very wise, master." Anakin said, though he felt there was something missing there. The ship's clone captain called for takeoff, and the ship rose. "Dooku mentioned that he fought Mandalorians on Galidraan."

"He did." Obi-Wan said, slightly annoyed.

"Wasn't the bounty hunter who the Kaminoans cloned a Mandalorian?"

"Jango Fett?" Obi-Wan stared into the back of the captain's head. "He was. It's possible he fought during the battle of Galidraan. He seemed about right age." he said, knowing Fett was exactly the right age.

Galidraan was a planet of green and white, covered in freezing and melting oceans and divided by grey mountains. The ship rumbled down to hover above a range near the middle of its smaller continent, overlooked by an opaline palace. In the distance, a snowfield reflected the sun serenely enough, but Anakin, watching through the observation port, sensed a fog of pain over it.

Dooku was behind him. The old master was quiet, breathing deliberately.

"What do you want?" Anakin said.

"I—" There was a clip of sadness in his voice. "I wanted nothing from you. The view is— the view is beautiful, even despite everything."

"There is serenity in all things."

"I doubt you believe that." Dooku stepped beside him. "Besides, the beauty there has nothing to do with serenity. The fear, the desperation, the suffering I saw set this spot aside, beyond those who presume to understand it."

"The Force is not fueled by suffering. Only your dark side."

"And yet your sensitivity connects you to intense emotion, and stronger users of the Force feel it more keenly. If you shut yourself off from them, you cannot fully master the Force."

"Be quiet." Anakin said, turning to Dooku. "I have mastered enough to best you." He stalked away, scowling.

Dooku smiled, turning back to the view. No painting like this in the Jedi temple, he thought. No paintings at all, no art of any kind. Some statues, he remembered, but only ever representational. This was something he had not thought on before.

Awkwardly, with his arms still shackled, he sat down to meditate.


	7. Invisible Hand

On Galidraan, Obi-Wan waved Anakin away so that he could talk to the governor.

Two days later, on Utapau, he pushed Anakin out of the way of a Kaleesh sniper's bullet.

On Galidraan, Dooku and the governor are laughing. She slaps him on the back.

On Utapau, he fell back, grabbing a blaster and firing into the sniper's belly.

On Galidraan, Anakin watched Dooku enter the combination to the vault, only to stand defeated as it opened, empty.

On Utapau, he saw the mouth of the sinkhole above grow dense with the figures of thousands of battle droids. "Master. I think we need backup."

Obi-Wan nodded and relayed orders into his headset. He knew that not long ago Anakin would have never called in the fleet, out of pride. His charge was changing now. An anger had left him, or begun to leave him. Obi-Wan was glad nothing had interceded and turned that anger into something dire, as it had for so many.

Dooku climbed back towards the wall of the sinkhole, where the launch's roof extended. "I would be of more use with a lightsaber." He hugged against the doorway, firing across to the other side.

"You've shown us nothing so far." Anakin said. The library on Coruscant was wiped and the Galidraanian holocron missing. He backed towards Dooku, deflecting the bolts firing at either of them.

Of course Dooku had blamed Palpatine's intervention. The caches were being destroyed, one by one, as the Sith Lord uncovered them. Dooku had seemed so calm on Galidraan after their failure that Anakin was sure he expected it. He was wasting their time.

"The tomb is enclosed." Dooku yelled to Obi-Wan. "If they take the entrance, they can gas it."

"Understood." Obi-Wan said before barking further orders into his earpiece. Republic gunships roared over the sinkhole's mouth, out of sight to the other side. Above them, the blast of cruisers in orbit rocked the Separatists' position. "I'll hold the entrance and command the battle from here. Anakin, take Dooku into the tomb and recover the cache."

"Yes, master." They hurried down into the lower levels. Dooku's lamp illuminated piles of bones and rows of Pau'an sarcophagi.

Dooku slowed in the first antechamber. "I sense something. Someone is here."

"There is nothing here. I would have sensed it."

"We should move cautiously."

"Do not waste our time further."

Dooku smirked. "Sorry." He led Anakin down past an altar of many statues, figures seeming to writhe in agony. "The Pau'ans believe that when they die, their souls burn in their star." Dooku explained. "Eternally. They had a tradition of force users several centuries ago who could extend their own lives by draining others."

"The dark side."

"Yes. It's strong here. We should turn out the light. If someone is here, they'll see us coming, and we'll be blinded." He switched it off. "Now…"

Anakin listened as they walked for sounds of the battle above, but he heard nothing save their footsteps and his own breathing.

"Do you know why I named it that?" Dooku's voice broke the silence.

"What do you mean?"

"I named my ship _the Invisible Hand._ Do you know why?"

"It's not to taunt me?"

"No," Dooku said, glancing back. "As humorous as that would be, the ship was named long before I dismembered you."

"Careful." Anakin's cold, metal hand gripped his saber tighter.

"The name reminds me of what I fight for. Not as a Sith, but as leader of the Separatists." Anakin scoffed. "What, boy? You think the rebels are only an extension of my former master's will? You think he organized and executed a plan this elaborate so that he could control both sides of a civil war? As soon as the clones were created, he could have seized power."

"Then why? Why fight two sides of the same war?"

"Because I convinced him to. By letting the war play out, I claimed it would thin out the Jedi, create scarcity, and exploit wartime fervor to smooth the takeover. I lied." Anakin could not see it, but he knew Dooku was smiling. "It was true enough, but it was all contrived so that the Separatists could form. Do you know how long the Republic has governed?"

"Thousands of years."

"More than twenty-five thousand. And in that time, what has it accomplished? Tepid technological progress, restrictive trade laws, and concessions to criminals and plutocrats."

"It has built wonders."

"It has bureaucracies as its monuments. Imagine if planets supported themselves, and trade was not restricted by a thousand tariffs, embargoes, and customs. Guided by the invisible hand of commerce, the galaxy would become a garden of a million flowers."

"Your lies will not work on me, Sith." Anakin said, more out of habit than conviction. If he had spent enough time researching Dooku's claims, he was sure he could cut through them, but his training had left him completely unprepared for politics.

"One does not need to be a Sith to see this." Dooku said. "Much of—" He stopped, cocked his head. "Oh. It is her."

"What do you—" but finally, Anakin sensed it too. He ducked into a forward roll as the blade of a lightsaber swung above him, illuminating the room in a red glow.

As he turned and ignited his own saber, he was taken aback. The figure was bone-white and thin. Sinewy muscle was covered in tight bandages. A black battle skirt seemed to make her float just above the ground. A ghost.

"Asajj Ventress." Dooku stood open, as if expecting a hug.

Her glare never left Anakin. "Jedi…" she hissed.

"You know my apprentice then? Excellent."

"You both shall die." Ventress said, igniting her second saber, spinning the first overhead, and striking forward.


	8. Drowning

When it rains on Coruscant, somebody drowns. From the chancellor's office, Padme watched the rivers of floodwater lapping against the second floors at the bases of buildings. When the weather is fair, the thoroughfares are packed with merchants, traders, and urchins. Right now, she knew, some homeless child was treading water in some sewer slowly filling up.

Once, she would have thought to draft a bill to fix the planet's runoff. Turning back to her desk piled high with reports, she now had only her thoughts of sympathy.

In the dim light, the sculptures down the hall held her gaze. Her mind seemed to pulse. It was like he was there. He made her heart beat until it was staggering to keep her conscious. It hurt her to think of him.

Thinking this excited her. She pushed aside a wisp of concern about it and turned her thoughts to him. If he walked into the office and told her to vacate the chancellorship, she would. Dimly, she remembered a time when abandoning politics was inconceivable, when she had explained to him why she couldn't.

That was before she had fallen this far. The thought of making selfish decisions with disastrous consequences was exotic now. Forbidden, unbidden feelings rocked her body. This office was the seat of galactic power, and she felt naked in it.

Down the hall, the elevator rose to her floor, marked by a warning tone. Padme shot up, like she had been doing something she shouldn't. She didn't know why.

"Chancellor Amidala." A clone commander bowed as he entered.

"Commander."

"Your office had contacted me, asking for a meeting. I came immediately."

Padme smiled. "Next time, feel free to schedule a meeting with my staff."

"Of course, chancellor." He stood still, waiting for her to take the lead.

"I've been going over the military protocols for the supreme commander of the clone army."

"I trust the report I prepared was orderly, chancellor."

"Uh— yes, it was. I just noticed several contingency orders have no description."

"That is correct, chancellor. Some contingencies are confidential."

"Many, in fact." She gestured for him to sit down, but he remained in place. "Contingency orders fifty one through sixty-six. I haven't even been briefed."

"That is because they are confidential, chancellor."

"I understand that, commander. What is order fifty five, for example?"

"I cannot say."

"It's confidential from me?"

"That is correct."

"I'm the chancellor."

"That is correct, chancellor."

She turned back to watch the downpour. In the reflection, she watched him, unmoving. "Then who has clearance, if not the chancellor?"

"The former chancellor, chancellor.

"Can I execute the orders? If I told you to execute order sixty-six, would you?"

"Of course, chancellor. I am bound to follow your orders."

"But you can't tell me what order sixty-six does?"

"I cannot."

Padme sighed. "Alright, commander. You are dismissed." As he turned and went, she looked back on her desk. So much of Palpatine's workings were being found. Crime lords asking when they would be paid for unspecified services, planetary governors sending her messages in codes, reports that corresponded to no known planet. Every couple of days, Horace would inform her that another system had joined the Separatists or broken off on its own.

She felt like she was drowning.


	9. I Am Sith

Anakin couldn't predict how she would move. Dooku stood on the other side of her, firing when she could not deflect it back at him. Any other combatant would have tried to reposition, to get out from between them. She didn't even try to make Dooku hit Anakin, instead focusing completely on maintaining a flurry of slashes.

With a lightsaber in each hand, she knew his strikes were more powerful, so she didn't give him the chance. By the time he blocked one strike, another was already coming, with only a split-second's reprieve when she writhed out of Dooku's sights or caught the bolt at an oblique angle and sent it into the ceiling.

"Control the distance." Dooku called. "If you let her tire you out, she will kill you."

Grimacing, Anakin made two wide swipes. Ventress dodged them easily, but they gave him enough room to back away and establish a tempo. He led with a strong jab which she barely pushed away with the blade of one saber.

Ventress spun low to strike at his legs, but he jumped back. "Jedi fool. You think my former master can save you?" She jumped up and rocketed back, propelled by the Force towards Dooku. In the air, she turned, spinning into a strike with both blades at the spot where Dooku just was. He fired a couple blasts at point blank, backing away as she swept them apart.

Anakin ran between them, forcing an opening with his own blade.

Dooku charged her, forcing Anakin back. "Your training was hardly completed." He sidestepped Ventress's slashes and clubbed her with the rifle, his leg moving to trip her. She moved with it, completing a front-flip and jabbing at Anakin.

"I am Sith." With a derisive kick, she slammed Dooku into the wall, every fiber hardened by Force and rage. He slid to the ground, a wet splash marking where his head had connected. "And I will kill you." She renewed her storm, raining blow after blow on Anakin as she stepped around him in a circle.

Anakin backed away, trying to find space to ready an attack, but Ventress struck without regard for her own exhaustion. Against the far wall, he saw Dooku stirring but unable to stand.

She was muttering now, some prayer meant only for herself and some dark deliverance, and he was glad he couldn't fully hear it. Between the red flashes of light, he saw a thin foam collecting at the corners of her mouth.

Her will is greater than mine, he thought. She will win.

Dooku had braced himself against the wall now. He was aiming carefully, not at Ventress. Anakin had only a moment to register surprise before ducking back as Dooku fired. The shoot slid past Ventress as he brought up his lightsaber to block. It connected just an inch above his hilt, as he brought it down again, slamming the bolt into Ventress's neck.

For a few seconds she still slashed in the air, but they grew more sluggish and eventually she fell back, broken.

Anakin stood catching his breathe. In death, he saw Asajj differently. The emaciated frame. The face that had learned to love nothing. The eyes that even now knew something of love. "It is a shame." he said. "She had become twis—"

Dooku fired twice more into her torso. "Better to be sure." The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the corpse began to cave in. "I trust you don't mind if I take this." He reached down for one of her lightsabers, slowly. "I didn't think so."

Anakin had not taken his eyes off hers. "The holocron."

"Just through here."

Soon enough, the battle was over. The holocron was secured, and all those who belonged in tombs stayed there. Obi-wan did not allow himself a smile as he went over the data they had recovered. Many Sith rituals of little tactical importance. Intelligence, a couple months old: useful, but not the end of the war. Files on potential "dark side acolytes," clandestine meeting minutes, allusions to "imperial" organizations. So much was yet uncertain.


	10. Realist

Padme watched Horace Vancil oscillating between the pages of two reports, tracking down some figure. The sitting room of her apartment was no longer familiar to her. Everything had long ago taken on the unquestioning quality of a dream.

As Horace tutted, his throat jiggling, she perceived the smell of paint. A hallucination. She proposed meeting here to get out of that office, which had only grown more unsettling, but instead it seemed to be infecting everywhere she went. It hung on her, like a stink.

And without so much as looking up, Horace mentioned _him._

"What?" Padme said. "I couldn't quite hear you."

"My apologies, dear. I've heard that Master Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker have found one of Dooku's information caches. I should have a report for you tomorrow." He glanced back to find his place. "Some good news, finally."

"Yes." She said. "Finally."

"Still, I suppose we were due for some."

"Yes." She said. "Finally."

"Ah. Here it is." Horace pushed a report towards her. "There, at the bottom. If we can prevent any more systems from leaving— a tall order, but we can do it— then we continue the war for twenty-three more years."

"I…" Padme said. "That's… Twenty-three years before we deplete our war-making capability?"

"Not quite, chancellor. With a transition to guerilla tactics or infiltration in the face of a— very unlikely!— Separatist 'victory,' we could maintain full-scale armed operations for…" He jabbed at a spot in the report. "One hundred thirty years."

"Then—"

"The twenty-three year figure is just how long we can fight before depleting excess population on currently held worlds. We could fight on after that, but we can both agree that such a tragedy should be considered a defeat."

Padme was silent for a moment. Horace tried to say something, but couldn't think of any way to recontextualize. Finally, she said "How many?"

"Chancellor?"

"How many people have died so far?"

"About eighteen billion. But their side has seen significantly more ca—"

"Their side?" Padme stood, her face and arms twisted with tired fervor. "I don't care about 'sides.' Do we, right now, have a viable plan to win the war?"

"Not at the moment, but—"

"So the galaxy is expected to wait and die while we maneuver our army, an army created by a Sith lord, towards maybe someday in the next two decades getting a viable strategy?"

"You know I care about these people." Horace rose. "Do you think I'm a monster because I can make these decisions when I need to? When it can keep the Republic together? When I'm protecting your legacy? Have you even thought of that? I'm sorry, Padme, but I won't see you remembered as the chancellor who let the Republic be torn apart after thousands of years."

"Horace—"

"Have you no pride?"

"Horace." Padme was not frowning. There was no fear. "I don't think you are a monster. I know you are doing the best you can for your people. But what kind of monster would I be if I valued my reputation more than I valued billions of lives?"

"You can be a symbol."

She looked down at the reports. She sighed. "A symbol, Horace? Perhaps I will be." And Padme left the chamber, leaving Chancellor Amidala behind.

Across the stars, in a dim base on Xagobah, Emir Wat Tambor stared at schematics, floating holographically across his vision.

"Emir." A droid whined. He hadn't seen an actual person in weeks. "We are receiving transmission through Separatist command channels, highest priority."

"Very well." He tapped a rune on the command console, and the schematics disappeared. His hand rose to adjust his voicecaster. "Transmit now."

The droid's hand clicked, and a holographic figure stood before Tambor. A human, face partially obscured by shadow, surveyed him.

"Chancellor. I did not expect to hear from you."

"I know." Padme said. "I would like to speak on behalf of peace."


	11. Cold Comfort

The shuttle thundered towards the frigate. As the door closed, the Jedi and Dooku found themselves in sudden silence.

Obi-Wan sat down. "Given what Anakin has told me, I've decided to allow you to keep a lightsaber."

Dooku scoffed. "Most kind of you, Master Kenobi, though it would have been entertaining to see you try to take it from me." He brandished the saber he had recovered from Ventress.

"Indeed? Perhaps you would be interested in a trade. Anakin?"

Anakin held up Dooku's own lightsaber that had been confiscated above Coruscant. "We're sure you're more comfortable with it."

Dooku eyed the lightsaber hungrily. He spoke with as much detachment as he could muster. "That would be agreeable." He held out Ventress's blade, pommel first to Anakin, and floated his own into his other hand. His eyes shot up. "Thank you, Jedi."

"Of course."

The shuttle swayed as it decelerated, nearing the hangar entrance. "That leaves Mygeeto, Alderaan, and Serenno." Obi-Wan said.

"The cache on Alderaan is likely destroyed by now." Dooku said. It was well-hidden to the Republic and the Jedi, but if my master is employing other acolytes it would be no trouble to find."

"So that leaves Mygeeto and Serenno." Anakin said. "Is one cache more useful than the other?" This elicited a noncommittal shrug from Dooku.

Obi-Wan pushed through a twitch of annoyance. "It is likely that Serenno is the safer place for you to hide information. As its count, you have unlimited access and control. Mygeeto is an active battlefield. In the chaos there, Palpatine has a greater chance of finding it."

"Well reasoned." Dooku said. "If the Republic secures Mygeeto, Palpatine's agents in the government will be able to find it and destroy it."

"And Mygeeto is vital to victory." Anakin said. "We can't afford to disrupt operations there."

"Rather devious." Obi-Wan said.

As the ship landed, Dooku stood to disembark. "I did my best."

Mygeeto was a cold world. When its invasion began, many argued its strategic value was not worth the cost, but now the cost was too high to leave. The Republic had managed to take some of the crystal mines which powered much of its blizzard-shrouded cities.

Cold comfort.

Dooku directed the ship down. "I understand Master Ki Adi Mundi is on this world."

Anakin smiled. "He'll be meeting us."

"Excellent."

The planet filled up the view-screens. "What happened between you two?"

A flicker of annoyance passed over Dooku's face. "Nothing, particularly. Master Mundi preferred a narrow view of the Jedi Code. Even before I… Any question I asked earned an incisive comment from him. He is a fool."

"Master Obi-Wan says he is wise."

"He is intelligent at being a Jedi, nothing more."

"That's hardly nothing." As Anakin spoke, the distant flashes of laserfire grew more distinct.

"It's barely anything. Without the rules of Jedi society to govern him, Ki Adi would be nothing. That is not wisdom. That is being a cudgel for whomever had the foresight to raise him. He is not Yoda."

"I think perhaps you fear him." Anakin said.

"Fear him?" Dooku glanced at Anakin darkly. He laughed: a deep, sonorous sound, entirely unrestrained. "I don't think so, boy. He is inflexible— a Jedi only. Take away the order from Yoda, for instance, and he is still a master of many things. That's what makes someone wise."

"Perhaps it makes them powerful. Not wise."

"They are the same thing. I have some power. As I recall, I made a promising Jedi and a threatening Sith. I am a commander and a count. I've won half the galaxy through conquest."

"And yet here you are, a prisoner of the Jedi."

"Nominally." Dooku watched the ship's descent to land outside a city. "I've heard you have some talent as a starfighter and a duelist. Not ignorant in philosophy or sports. And—" He smelled the air. "Naboo's domestic affairs, it would seem."

"I— do not—"

Dooku walked away. "You would have made an excellent Sith."

Ki Adi Mundi did not mind the cold. He didn't mind it because he had decided he did not mind it. As the ramp before him descended, he considered the world. Though his right eye was gone, he still sensed the dust settling on the rubble around him.

"CB-023. Treat asset Dooku as hostile asset."

"Invalid command." The clone commander replied. "Contradicts standing order 54.5093, issued by Jedi Grandmaster Yoda."

Mundi growled an acknowledgement as the Jedi and Dooku appeared at the top of the ramp.

"Master Mundi."

Dooku smiled thinly. "So excellent to see you again."

"You gave him a lightsaber? Have you lost your sense?"

"Do not worry, Master Mundi. We have him well in hand."

"Most doubtful. With all due respect Master Kenobi, you did not know the Dooku I know."

Anakin stepped between them. "Master Yoda trusts us with him. Why don't you?"

Mundi paced side to side, as though a wall separated them. "Fine. You read the reports I transmitted? Then you know the tactical situation. I can lead you through to wherever this cache is."


	12. Too Many Apprentices

Two figures stood on the balcony of the Pand Perin Clan Tower. By the former chancellor's decree, the building had been labeled a cultural landmark and spared shelling. Now, it was the tallest building on Mygeeto.

"Do you sense them?" one asked.

"Yes, master." The younger was human too, a worried face held up by a ridiculous goatee. "I— they can't see us, can they?"

"Not to worry, my apprentice." Palpatine smiled. "I am cloaking our presence. This is what your training has led to. Embrace your fear. Make it your strength." He floated back and down the staircase. "Let the dark side guide you."

With a thought, his mental mask deteriorated. A few miles away, Obi-Wan looked up. His eyes met with the apprentice's in the tower. "Dooku?"

"I see him."

"How many apprentices do you have?"

Mundi led them onto a transport, clones on speeders flanking them. Dooku shook his head. "I didn't even recognize this one."

"I thought there were only supposed to be two Sith at a time." Anakin said.

"My master only follows rules when it suits him."

"General Mundi." CB-023 said. "The enemy position is—"

"Great." Anakin said.

Obi-Wan put a pair of binoculars to his eyes. "Oh my." He put them down. "Dooku, where is the cache?" Dooku frowned. "Oh, excellent."

A swarm of droids marched in identical lockstep down the corridor of rubble. Super battle droids pushed aside the clumsier, thinner models. Behind it all, a spider droid lumbered steadily, lasers tracking back and forth.

"They will try to delay us." Dooku said.

Obi-Wan ignited his saber. "Anakin and I will create an opening. You two recover the cache."

Mundi glanced sidelong at Dooku. "Very well." His saber ignited. "Lead the way."

From the alley, the apprentice, Garth watched as they split into two pairs. That would be manageable. At least, it probably would. Right. Now.

He watched as two cut their way past the company of droids. Now was the time to strike, while the spider droid could lay down fire. The other two were clearing through quite quickly, though. Look, they were amidst the column, turning the droids against themselves. Better still to wait, until he had room to maneuver.

After they toppled the spider droid and sent the last squads of droids into a retreat, he decided now was his time. At least, he couldn't wait much longer.

Anakin and Obi-Wan looked around for any stragglers. "Good technique."

"Thank you, master."

The apprentice slinked out from the shadows. "Impressive enough, _Jedi._ My name is Garth Ezzar. I was trai—"

Anakin smashed at him with several heavy strikes, sending him flying back as he brought up his saber to deflect.

"Wait. I—"

Obi-Wan joined him, jabbing and covering Anakin's openings. Garth backed away, blocking desperately.

"I— you—" He twisted forward, a spinning kick driving through the Force to send a droid's carcass into Obi-Wan's side, sending him back a few steps. Garth coughed a nervous laugh, striking wildly at Anakin. The tide was turning.

Surely.

Now the coup de grace. He pushed the Force forward again, nimbly deactivating Anakin's lightsaber before swiping roughly at his throat.

Anakin ducked back, reactivating his saber. Its blade caught Garth's overextended and unprotected side, glancing out with a sickening sizzle.

He wheezed weakly, swiping at head level to create distance. "I didn't think— I didn't…" Hand shaking, he grabbed at a thermal detonator, spilling out of his pocket onto the ground. It began to chirp.

"Anakin, get back." Obi-Wan shouted. Garth jumped up, grabbing onto a fire escape and scaling it. Anakin leapt away from the detonator as Obi-Wan sent it flying up with the Force. A burst tore through the air, vaporizing Garth's skin, hair, and outer third of his flesh, sending him falling back to the ground in a dry pile.

"Thank you, master." Anakin said. "That was close."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan stared at Garth's remains. "But not altogether difficult. If Palpatine sent Darth Ezzar to deal with us, Dooku and Master Mundi must be in greater danger."

"Then we should hurry."

Deep in the vault, where the corridors are lit by dim panels, where wrong turns are final, where the architect is buried, in the antechamber, on the pedestal, there rested the holocron. Dooku and Ki Adi Mundi paced around opposite sides of the room.

"You are a traitor."

"I deceived you. There is a difference."

"You promised me the galaxy, then you took it away."

"I deceived you too. I didn't think I would have to explain it." Darth Sidious said. "But I'm afraid this little treasure of yours is too much to lose. Feel free to uncover the other one I know you have on this planet. After I destroy this one—" He ignited his lightsaber. "We can get rid of the Jedi and each depart." The blade lowered towards the holocron. "This may be the end of your training, but it doesn't need to be the end of our partnership."

Three things happened in an instant. Sidious's hand twitched, bringing the blade down towards the holocron. Ki Adi reached out, focusing his mind, feeling through the Force, and pulling at it. Sidious was prepared for this, just as he was prepared for Dooku to pull it towards himself, but he was not prepared for the third thing that happened. Dooku's hand reached forward, his mind crackling like a storm through the Force.

He did not pull, but push.

The holocron rocketed towards Mundi, who grabbed it and hooked it onto his belt, spinning into a strike at Sidious's head. Dooku also darted forward, thrusting at his chest.

Sidious slipped past Mundi's strike, darting past him. The Jedi nearly collided with Dooku, swooping back to grab him, but Sidious moved with him, slashing at Dooku. Mundi twirled his saber around, and jabbed it back behind him. Sidious lept away, turning to face them both. Dooku stopped before him, sizing him up."

"Such a shame, that you were my most promising apprentice."

"You are not a duelist, master. Surrender, and I will spare you."

"No, you won't. You wouldn't."

"Master—"

"I am not a duelist." Sheev Palpatine, the Chancellor the the Galactic Republic, the Dark Lord Sidious held his arms out, palms forward. Dooku was seized by the pressure of the universe enslaved, contorting in painful spasms as his flesh bloomed with bruises.

Mundi charged forward, swiping, cutting, slashing, each attack meeting air as Sidious stepped aside.

"You were never too gifted, my apprentice." Sidious sent a burst of lightning at Mundi, who just managed to divert it. "You didn't belong to the dark side any more than you belonged with the Jedi."

Pushing against the agony, Dooku reached forward. "I do not belong to anything but myself." With final effort, channeling his tired hatred, he fired tendril after tendril of lightning from his fingertips, fiercer than he ever had.

It was what Sidious had wanted. Even as Dooku raised his hand, he had moved to receive and channel the lightning, a conduit of dark energy blasting it into Mundi, who could block it no more. It crawled along his skin and fried the edges of his heart and brain.

When Dooku abated, Mundi fell to his knees, the holocron skittering across the stone floor. Sidious swept forward to end Mundi's life, but Dooku interceded, blocking the blow. Sidious glared at him for a moment, their blades pushing against each other, before pushing off, flying back to the holocron, and bisecting it with a swipe.

"Now," he said, standing. "For your punishment."

Across the room, two lightsabers ignited. Obi-Wan and Anakin moved to flank him. Sidious glanced at Dooku, barely standing from the pain, and at the two still-fresh Jedi. He smiled, shrugged, and fell away down the corridors.


	13. Mother of the Nation

It reminded her of Naboo. This world was so astronomically far away from her home, but its sun beamed that same warm light, its halls boasted that same alabaster wealth, and its nobles wore that same amused frown— the look of someone who couldn't believe it was all as bad as you said it was.

The scions of millennia-old noble houses pushed past her, directing servants around tables that had served kings and messiahs. It was no wonder she was practically ignored. Padme was just one of many storied names.

The senator from Alderaan offered her his arm. "Chancellor. I hope you'll forgive the cavalier aristocrats of Alderaan. They like to pretend that their ancestors' achievements are their own."

"It's no trouble, senator Organa," They watched as a pair of porters carted in a strange array of decorative spheres. "So long as everything is ready in time."

The senator sighed. "No need to worry. You chose Alderaan for a reason. No better place for a peace conference." The words were hollow, more habit than conviction.

"Yes, of course. Excuse me." Padme broke suddenly, floating to the edge of the room, where a Kel Dor jedi observed the proceedings.

As she approached, he straightened, squaring with her. His visage, eyes and mouth covered by crude apparati, was unsettling, but if anything he seemed more nervous than she did.

"General Plo Koon."

His head tilted to the side. "An honor, to be known by the chancellor of the Republic. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Padme hesitated. Why had she come over here, to speak with a man she hardly knew, a man she had never spoke to before. "The room." She said, finally. "What do you sense?"

She couldn't be sure, but Plo Koon seemed to smile. He stiffened, and the synthetic bark of his breathing stopped. A second of silence, then "anxiety, some hope. Here more than anywhere, any peace is a good peace. A fear for their values. Turning back to the past for example… I'm afraid some here have always sympathized with the Separatists."

"And me?" She said, not whispering but with the timory of a whisper. "What do you sense in me?"

"Ah." His face grew softer— a definite smile. "You do not live here."

"What? I don't—"

"Your world is one of ideals, of democracy and process. Not a bad world. But the galaxies we make for ourselves are not enough if we want to save this one."

She thought. "You're right. It's not enough. But it's why I'm here today."

As the sun finally fell, servants lit rows and rows of candelabras. Plo Koon's face seemed to flicker with them. "A minute ago you called me general. I hope that when your children are grown, they would remember me only as master Plo Koon."

"It may be too late for me to have children." Padme said, neutral-faced. "It's not as though I'm married."

"I have sensed them, too."

He took a moment. "I will hide your secret, if I must. The consternation of this galaxy concerns me less and less as I retreat into my own."

"I."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Well." Plo Koon looked around. "Congratulations."


	14. Serenity

Serenno was a knife, and it had often been offered point- and handle-first. As their ship approached in cloak, night dissipated, webs of light giving way to rich greens and blues, and the purple-brown rows of stone.

In orbit above Serenno stood three flagships, _Common Tragedy, Emergent,_ and _Malevolence._ Attending these ships were hundreds of carriers, cruisers, and battleships. Attending these were hundreds of thousands of fighters and support ships.

Their small ship glided silently towards the line. Kenobi nodded, first to one of the bridge engineers, then to Dooku. The broadcast instrument popped to life.

"This is Dooku hailing _Common Tragedy._ " Several hundred batteries pivoted to target their ship. A mechanical silence passed.

"Acknowledged. Please state identification code." A metallic voice chipped.

"A8-92503. B-P-L-D-J."

"Acknowledged. Please state verification phrase."

Dooku smiled, looking up to Obi-Wan and reciting. "Just as in the greater heavens even silence has its turn/ might a kind of mortal freedom be a thing that we could earn?"

"Acknowledged. Awaiting orders."

"We will be landing at my palace. Prepare it for my arrival."

"Acknowledged."

As the ship fell down to the planet's surface, a ship pulled up beside them, then another.

"An honor guard." Dooku said. "The house of Dooku commands absolute respect here."

Anakin tried not to be caught staring at him.

As they landed, a clone trooper moved to open the airlock, but Obi-Wan's hand stopped him. "You should stay on the ship."

"Acknowledged. We will await your orders here."

Anakin pressed the button, and the room filled with a warm, light air. It tasted salty and tickled the nose, and when Dooku stepped out into the light he seemed younger, more vital.

"It's worth a war." He said, looking out towards his palace, built long ago atop the Carannian Crags which had before that been the site of an observation tower and before that had been a shrine.

The light and color overwhelmed Anakin. Here, more than anywhere, he felt what he had lost as a slave on Tatooine, the sorts of minor adventures that a child found— digging holes on the beach, playing pretend among the rocks, rolling down hills.

Even the battle droids seemed different. In this kinder light, they seemed almost innocuous, not ugly metal but shell statues come to life. One approached, its yellow markings indicating its rank. At its flank, a chiss in navy robes stalked forward, bowing severely. "My count, I—"

"Dooku acknowledged." The droid said. "Awaiting orders."

"Prepare the vault." He turned to the Chiss. "It's been too long, friend."

"You honor me."

"Tell me, how has the palace fared since I saw it last?"

"Two witches of Dathomir came. Powerful with the dark side. They attempted to enter your vault, but were killed."

"Good. Is there anything else?"

"Your brother has gone to Alderaan. Though I advised against it, he insisted, so I spared three escorts. He intends to stay there at least until the war has ended."

"Fine. Have the servants ready the guest quarters. We will be staying the night."

"Excellent to have you, my count."

As he bowed and left, Dooku looked past him, watching a battlecruiser setting down in a distant city. "Dark days."

"Do you regret starting this war, then?" Anakin said.

"All the Separatists want is to be left alone. Independence is worth even war."

"Independence from what? The Republic is a democracy, not a tyranny."

"Anakin…"

"Young Jedi, I hope your stay on Serenno gives you a chance to see things from my perspective. To find what you want, and what you want to be free from." He started for the palace.

Anakin turned back to Obi-Wan. "Two weeks ago, he was our prisoner."

"I do not sense that he seeks to betray us. Remember, the Separatists are not nearly so dangerous as Palpatine. Try to meditate, Anakin. There is always a way ahead."

"Thank you master, that is very reassuring." Anakin said, watching rows of soldiers disembark from that far-off ship. Even here, the sun was setting.

In his sanctum, Dooku could not stand still. It was built atop one of the palace's towers, thin windows showing the estate in blazing twilight. He was normally put at ease when he could see very far and not be seen, but some sense of security eluded him. Sidious had told him that he was strongest when his surroundings reflected his mind, and so he had taken to this dark, dry room.

Sidious. A man the Jedi did not understand, not even Yoda. This was a man who counted death as a servant, father to a score of adepts, who in many ways had already conquered the galaxy years ago. And it was a man for whom nothing would be enough.

Skywalker and Kenobi had not said it, but their actions spoke to some modicum of understanding. This was not a war between the Republic and the Separatists. Politics had died long ago. Politicians lived only at Sidious's pleasure.

Therefore…

Therefore, the existence of the Separatists was uncertain as long as his master lived.

Therefore…

Therefore, the game of caches was done. Sidious would know that his resources for destroying them was dwindling. If you can't win, he had once said, you must change the game. It couldn't happen piecemeal. Something decisive. One event.

Order 66.

Therefore…

Obi-Wan sat at the end of a hall. His breathing was slow and steady. His eyes were closed, but moved fiercely. Without seeing, he saw. Without feeling, he felt. Figures surrounding, minds empty, like a droid's, or a clone's. Everything uncertain. Planets falling out of alignment. A million voices screaming out, then silenced. And Anakin, at the center of it all.

Anakin. The boy he had failed. The wiser Obi-Wan had become, the more eloquently he could articulate to himself the problems with Anakin, how to solve them, what to tell him, but this never manifested. The words died in his throat, as they had been malformed in his heart.

He had changed. Anakin's anger, like a fever, had broken. But the man he had become was restless, excitable, immediately invested in all he did. Obi-Wan had failed to make him a Jedi.

Qui-Gon had seen the potential in Anakin, but Obi-Wan had failed to realize it. This was the chosen one? He could not destroy the Sith without becoming them. He could not bring balance to the force without darkening it. Qui-Gon had handed him a savior, and Obi-Wan had made it into a man.

Qui-Gon's master stood before him. "Dooku."

"Master Kenobi. I hope I haven't disturbed you too greatly."

"Of co— what do you want, Sith?"

"With the information I've recorded in this final cache, the Republic could probably win the war in a little over a year."

"Excellent."

"Do you think the war will last that much longer?" Obi-Wan frowned. "I did not want to have to share this, but I have one final way to help. We need to go to Kamino."

Anakin Skywalker watched the water. Since night fell, the tide had come back in. Sand, as dry as the sand of his home, had been drowned by a lightless ocean. Perhaps if he had been raised here, and Dooku as a slave on Tatooine, their roles would be different. Maybe Anakin would be a Sith lord and Dooku a Jedi. For not the first time, Anakin felt powerless. Chosen by prophecy, chosen by circumstance, he had no command over his own power.

Padme. She hadn't been chosen for him. She chose him. He chose her. And it wasn't the Jedi Anakin or the slave Anakin or any other Anakin that was with her. He wasn't bound by tradition or code or law or right and wrong when he was with her. She was an exquisite silence, intense and electric.

But he couldn't be just Anakin indefinitely, echoing in her soundless self forever. He realized that he didn't want to be a Jedi. He hadn't know this about himself a week ago, but it was obvious now. He had tried to detach himself from the universe and failed, and had come up with increasingly flimsy excuses for why he should keep trying. Racing and beaches and computers were in the universe. Obi-wan and the younglings and weird alien passersby were in the universe. Padme was in the universe, and he quite enjoyed her. Detachment was a mistake.

Was he becoming a Sith? No, something different. Dooku would tell him that a Sith was merely a Jedi who was not bound by rules, but Dooku did not understand himself. The ancient Sith conquerors would have laughed to think a Sith was merely a sensitive nonconformist, a rugged individualist, an economic isolationist.

But there Dooku stood, and he was not laughing. Nor was Obi-Wan, standing beside him. "Anakin. There is one more source of information."

"Another cache? Where?"

"On Kamino. Though it's not quite a cache."


	15. For the Republic

The pale light gave everything a ghostly look. As the portal slid open, the servant ushered them in. "Introducing Prime Minister Lama Su." She said levelly. "Introducing Jedi Masters Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan Kenobi, and jedi Anakin Skywalker."

"Sifo-Dyas?" The Kaminoan stood. "How excellent. I had heard rumors that you had perished briefly after meeting with us." His empty eyes narrowed. "We should have known to expect greater things from a jedi."

"Your concern is admirable." Dooku said. "And I appreciate your flexibility in dealing with the Republic in my absence."

"Of course. This army is for the republic."

"The— Master Sifo-Dyas said that you altered the genetic structure of the clones." Anakin said.

"That is true. We have made them more docile, as well as accelerated their aging."

Obi-wan crossed towards Lama Su. "But you have done more. You've added something else."

Lama Su did not stop smiling, but somehow conveyed the sense threat. Deliberately, he looked to Dooku, who nodded. "That is correct. A clone is vastly superior to a droid, able to think creatively. But this means it can be difficult to command a clone as absolutely. Kaminoans have developed a programmable instinct protocol. It is not genetic, though it is attached to their genetic code. No other cloning program is so precise or so reliable in this way."

"You should be proud." Anakin scoffed.

"We are."

"I would like to analyze this protocol as it was used on the clone army." Dooku said. "Please allow us access to the mainframe, starting on Order 66."

"Of course." Lama Su bowed deferentially. "This army is for the republic." He nodded, and a panel emerged from the wall. He crossed to it and began to punch in codes.

"Is there a way to deprogram a clone of these protocols?" Obi-Wan said. "Some kind of code word or command?"

"I'm afraid that is quite impossible. Our programming is deeper and more fundamental than hypnosis or persuasion. However, our advanced understanding of cloning would allow us to create a compound, taken orally, which could scrub the protocol. Such a thing we would provide if asked. After all—"

On the screen, Order 66's operation description ran across the screen. TREAT JEDI AS ENEMY COMBATANTS. NO MERCY AUTHORIZED. REPORT TO COMMANDERS FOR FURTHER ORDERS.

"This army is for the Republic."

Dooku straightened. "Master Kenobi, where is the council, right now?"

"Alderaan, protecting the Chancellor and senators during the peace talks."

"The peace talks between the leadership of the Republic and the Separatists?"

"I…"

"Obi-Wan— are the Jedi, leading members of the senate, and Separatist leaders all in the same place?"

"Oh, no, they're not." He frowned. "But… presently."


	16. Bewinged, Bedight

Fleets of rain descending, tearing weakly at thousand-year-old palisades. The battle droids seemed to be crying, rows of still skeletons staring forward. Padme stood at the threshold, just out of the night. When the Trade Federation invaded Naboo, she could barely believe it. Now the Separatists came to negotiate, and it felt like another invasion.

To her left, Mace Windu watched the descending ramp of the shuttle. His body was still, but his mind was moving at lightspeed. He did not look happy. She would have appreciated Yoda's cold calm to this. The Jedi Council knew the fierce message it was sending, and this more than anything scared her.

To her left, Horace Vancil stepped from side to side. These past months, he had moved decisively, belying his winter years. But as more droid guards emerged from the shuttle, the moment was coming when his legacy would be decided. Horace Vancil would be either an energetic hero who salvaged the Republic or an inept bureaucrat personifying the decadence of a government that could not help itself as it sloughed apart.

No one else had seen what Plo Koon had. When she had greeted Yoda, he seemed none the wiser. Perhaps no one else had been looking like Plo Koon had. Perhaps no other Jedi felt keenly enough to care.

The first to emerge from the shuttle was the architect of the first crisis. Nute Gunray smiled a toxic smile, his head held high. Beside him, the Geonosian, Poggle the Lesser, spoke in hushed clicks. San Hill of the Banking Clan laughed behind them. "And they think we can't plan hyperlanes on our own." Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild followed next, stalking cautiously down. Close by, she kept Passel Argente of the Corporate Alliances. He wore an incongruous smile, waving as he descended. Tikkes of the Quarren Isolation League and Po Nudo of the Hyper-Communications Cartel came next, arguing about whether value was created by labor or by something else. All of them moved with a confident sway. They had all been powerful and rich before this war, but this was a new kind of power. These businesspeople and economists were meeting on equal footing with the Chancellor, the Senate, and the Jedi Council. The best of them would have their faces printed on currency, if they could establish their Confederacy.

The best of them lingered at the threshold of the shuttle. Wat Tambor, foreman and emir of the Techno-union, watched his companions proceed. Before descending, he stared at her, not faltering, not for a moment sparing a glance at the Jedi Master beside her.

This was what it felt like, she realized. In a more confident time, she had worn that reckless look. She had been a champion of peace, of process, of brave discussion. And though his reckless look was fueled by greed, his cause isolation and coldness, he was a champion too. He was every iota the earnest idealist she was.

And he was every iota as tired.

He joined his comrades, shielded from the rain by serving droids, rotating the dials in his chest to prepare his greeting. And he concealed that he was tired.

But she saw it.

"Chancellor Amidala." She looked down and saw Nute gunray, extending his limp arm. She shook it and smiled. "When we first met, you were the queen of one minor world. I trust it is not unfair to say that I am responsible for part of your success."

It was, and he wasn't. "Welcome, viceroy." Padme said. "I hope the battle on Cato Neimoidia hasn't proven more destructive than your invasion of Naboo."

He frowned sickly, then nodded to her and to Windu, before proceeding further in, San Hill following close after.

"Chancellor Amidala." Wat Tambor bowed. "It is an honor to be received in this historic castle."

"We— we're honored to have you."

"It was constructed in the Eighth Age of the Alderaan calendar. The prevailing architectural wisdom was that abrupt, right corners would thwart charging attackers." He gestured past her to a staircase. "Especially—" his mask buzzed, and he adjusted a dial— "especially visible in their steps. Modern understandings of that era reveal that this idea was unfounded."

Padme smiled uncertainly, and looked to Vancil for advice, then back to Tambor. "Oh. That is very interesting."

"I'm sure I don't need to—" another buzz, "—tell you that Naboo's architectural history adheres to rational principles."

"Of course. Are you very interested in architecture?"

"Not particularly." He bowed again and shuffled past to join the others.

"I'm here." Vancil turned, speaking into the bead in his ear. "Yes? I'll tell her. And— very well. I… very well." he turned back, forcing a sort of a grin. "Chancellor, Master Windu. Planetary defense is in contact with a ship entering the system carrying Master Kenobi and Skywalker, as well as Count Dooku. They're saying… they're saying the clones aren't safe. That Palpatine can assume control at any time."

"They're coming down?" Windu said.

"Presently."

"We need to start negotiations." Padme said. "This is important, but the Separatists can't know."

"I agree." Windu said. "I will meet Kenobi."

"I'll start in there. Horace, order the clones away from high-value areas and supplement the auxiliaries. Master Windu, I need as many Jedi in the Palace as possible."

"It will be done, chancellor."


	17. Trigger

It was only as she sat down at the negotiating table that she faltered. She had not had time to process this news personally. The chancellor had acted decisively, and now finally allowed herself to dwell on these developments.

He was here. She couldn't see him but he was here. Padme glared across the table at the motley collection of confident cowards and would-be titans. She had a job to do. And then she could tell him.

If she didn't have another job to do.

Bail Organa broke the silence. "As a senator of the Republic, I welcome all of you to Alderaan. We hope this meeting can restore peace to the galaxy, as is our obligation to all those whom we presume to serve."

As he spoke, Tambor adjusted his dials. At this pause, he barked "We affiliated leaders of the Confederacy of Independent Systems are honored by your invitation. We look forward to the cessation of violence at the hands of a mutually tolerable peace."

The dials switched again, and his voice grew deeper and pained. "But know this; we negotiate from the understanding that your violent attempts at suppression are failing. We negotiate from the understanding that should a tolerable peace not be viable, the Republic faces an existential threat that the Confederacy does not."

Organa stared defiantly. "Very well. Chancellor?"

Padme gestured, and a star map rose from the table. "These are the systems that have issued formal declarations of secessions. Of those, the forty-eight planets in dotted lines issued these declarations under threat of invasion or similar."

"That accusation is unfounded." Gunray rose from the table. "If you truly expect us to take—"

"Of those, the forty-eight planets have a contested status. We are prepared to recognize the formal sovereignty of the Confederacy over the remaining planets, as well as any planets that wish to join it, under their own will. All hostility will cease. The new Confederacy and the Republic would sign a mutual military reduction treaty, presided over by a committee comprised of both government's representatives. The Confederacy would pay reparations to neutral planets it has invaded equal to the cost imposed."

Tambor wrote carefully in a datapad. "By neutral planet, you mean one that has not formally declared affiliation with the Republic or the Confederacy?"

"Not quite. Because the Confederacy is a secessionist movement, almost every planet supported the Republic, and some formally changed their allegiance. We want to define neutrality on the basis of the amount of military support the planet provided to either side. Peaceful planets, in more specific words."

Poggle scowled, and Gunray almost stood in anger, but Tambor waved them back. "This is acceptable. We have several concerns we would like to voice now. First, we wish to make clear that—" He clicked another dial. "—that Jedi and other Republic agents will not be allowed in Confederate space without due approval."

"That is acceptable."

"We have also several provisions to facilitate trade and establish a positive relationship between the Republic and the Confederacy." As he spoke, a gilded droid hovered over him, depositing a datapad in his hand. "These provisions are extensive because they interact with each system differently." His gloved hand slid the datapad forward. "We understand that you will need time to go over these. Another major concern going forward—"

"I'm sorry. Wait." Padme thumbed through the list of provisions. "You want to radically restructure our galactic trade laws? These could be hundreds of bills in the Senate."

"We do. Rest assured, Chancellor, these are all viable measures."

"With all due respect, Foreman, that is not the point. You can't expect me to alter the Republic's laws to better suit a confederacy of systems that just seceded from it. Not when I would be circumventing a democratic system."

"This negotiation will not succeed unless we are both practical about the systems we represent. Your predecessor would have been capable—"

"My predecessor was a Sith lord."

"And where is he now?" San Hill said. "The Republic can't even find him."

"Palpatine is exploiting the chaos of the war you created." Organa said. "Doubtless, he's lurking on one of your 'contested worlds.'"

"We should not let cheap political jibe blind us." Tambor said, his voice artificially amplified. "When peace is restored, Sidious will hide on the outer rim. The Republic will lose their grasp on him and he will plot for another century."

Organa scoffed. "Now you blame us because we can't control the Hutts, and whomever else—"

"You cannot. But together, we can. A joint fleet of Republic and Confederate ships could crush anything that the warlords of the fringe could muster, even if they united. Slavery could be ended in this galaxy. Democracies would rise where once tyrants ruled."

Organa nodded. "And new markets would be available to be exploited."

"I…" Padme's head whirled. "I— this is all very speculative, and I doubt the senate would endorse another war so soon." She shot a look at Organa. "I think we've made significant progress here. Please excuse me for a moment." She stood and started for the door, for him. "When we resume, I'd like to go over these proposed trade provisions in detail."

Tambor nodded, and other Separatists stood, pulling together to confer. Organa started after her, but stopped. As soon as she was out of sight, she tapped into her commlink. "Typho."

"Chancellor."

"I would like to speak to the Jedi who arrived, Kenobi and Skywalker."

"They are on their way now to you, Chancellor… I recommend the east ballroom."

"Thank you, captain."

When she stood in the east ballroom, Padme was struck by its emptiness. Even with no ball, she remembered the dance halls of Naboo were always in some sort of use, chairs stacked in a corner or music stands upturned along a wall. Never forgotten, like this. It wasn't that this was no time for a ball, but that it hadn't been for such a long time.

Eventually, the doors across from her began to open. In that instant, she wondered who she would see first. If it was master Kenobi, she could not lose her composure for even a moment. He was curious, had some spark in him like Plo Koon. If he suspected anything…

But if he opened the door instead, she would be allowed a moment to see him just as herself, before steeling herself again. A silent confirmation that nothing had changed for them. He, she was sure, would not know, even if he looked. He wasn't like Obi-Wan or Plo Koon.

And it was he who opened the door. His mouth curled into a liar's smile, finishing some though to Obi-Wan, as his eyes cut cruelly into her.

Nothing had changed.

Then came Obi-wan, his brother, kind-eyed, laughing. "Chancellor!"

"Padme." Anakin mouthed.

"Master Kenobi." she nodded. "Anakin."

"Chancellor! I'm sure I speak for Anakin when I say that we're both very happy to see you."

"I—"

"I only wish the circumstances were more fortunate."

"I— yes, you had better tell me."

"The clone troopers have some kind of trigger coded into their orders. If Palpatine issues an order, they will turn against the Republic and attack the Jedi."

"Order sixty-six." Padme said to herself.

"The cloners on Kamino have synthesized a compound to neutralize this trigger, and we've had to administer it now. These negotiations are the perfect time to issue the order."

"Not to worry, chancellor." Anakin said. "Dooku and Master Windu are administering the compound to clone troopers in the area. In a few minutes, every clone trooper within two hours' travel will be inoculated. Since we've left, Kamino has been sending out the compound to priority squads— honor guards for senators and commanders aiding Jedi generals."

"...I understand. Palpatine will probably try to attack now. We're dismantling his trap."

"He has no choice but to spring it." Kenobi said.

Padme froze. She had read reports on clone programming, ever since she had spoken with the clone commander after assuming the chancellorship. And there was something, some scientific limitation. This scenario was somehow impossible.

"Padme?"

"Are you alright, chancellor?"

She tried to remember the charts, the lines of code and axioms. But she wasn't a scientist, or her science was statecraft. This she clutched at. The Kaminoans had the compound because Palpatine had ordered the clone army. It was being distributed to priority targets first: here, among senators' guards, and the clone commanders.

Wait. "We need to move." Padme started for the door. "That compound is the trigger."

In a bunker a mile away, an old Sith smiled. He pressed a button, sending out an imperceptible wave, picked up and amplified by the clones' own comms equipment. The wave resonated in every molecule of the treated soldiers' body.

Two guards stop in place. Their charge keeps walking, not noticing.

A commander reviews the same battlefield he had just won, from a new perspective.

A line of clones level their rifles. Dooku and Windu look up.


	18. Into Hell

If someone looked out from the bridge of the Separatist flagship to the planet below, nothing would seem amiss. Perhaps they would see the smallness of that dusty green world and reflect on the smallness of life, of how many generations of would-be masters and absolute arbiters lived and aged and died and never once looked up to the teeming stars of the galaxy with any hint of wonder.

Nobody looked out from the bridge of the Separatist flagship. Most of the crew were droids, and the few techno-union minders and engineers were hunched over their assigned terminals. One of the terminals, connected to a sensor pointing down at that nothing-amiss world, beeped insistently.

An engineer jumped up. "Captain. Reports of mass laserfire in the area surrounding the palace."

"Processing." The captain noted. "Deploy reinforcements to rally points beyond palace. Notify fleet to do likewise. What is the status of the council?"

"Still sending the all-clear, captain."

"Have the honor guard establish contact. Scanning, do you have data on who's firing?"

"Mostly Republic weapons. Our forces haven't reported being engaged. Readings suggest infighting between Republic forces."

Obi-Wan walked with Anakin and Padme, entering the conference room that now served as a war room. Typho and Horace Vancil were standing, going over a map of the grounds, as senators and soldiers whispered to each other. Seeing Padme, everyone stood.

Padme nodded to them and sat at the head of the table. "I want to thank you all for your— thank you. We must continue negotiations with the Separatist council and they must know as little as possible, or else they will use this battle as an excuse to demand more concessions."

"Chancellor." Typho said. "Clone forces are within sight of the palace. We need them."

"Deal with their commanders. Refuse them outside access. If this negotiation fails, the Republic falls anyway."

Typho nodded, though his misgivings were plain. "As you wish."

"Master Kenobi?"

"If this is Palpatine's final push, then he must be nearby. We need to take this opportunity."

Anakin stepped forward. "We can't abandon the palace and the chancellor."

"I agree—" Padme said, "with Obi-Wan. This might be our last chance to bring Palpatine to justice."

"Then we'll reconnect with Master Windu and Dooku at once." Obi-Wan bowed quickly before hurrying away. Anakin stayed a moment, almost reaching out to her, before running after his master.

She watched him leave. Whispering at the edge of her ability to hear, a million accusations hissed that she had failed and would fail. Padme knew she would indulge those lies soon enough, but just then she stopped, took a breathe, and thought nothing at all.

Ki Adi Mundi swiped wildly side to side with his lightsaber, bisecting another clone as another squad marched forward. He lept forward, kicking one aside as he landed in their midst. Every part of Mundi's training and nature told him he was acting foolishly, that he was taking far too many risks. But when losing, you must take risks. If there is no strategy that will save you, there is only ferocity.

Plo Koon stalked around the squad, cutting as he went. With Mundi amidst them, he could afford to be more cautious. Each strike was meant to draw them out, to distract some of them from Mundi, but it was no use. The clone troopers had been programed to focus their efforts.

A pair of senate guards jumped down from the palace arch, each covering the other. "Master jedi! Three commandos, east-southeast, with repeaters."

An ARC trooper dropped from the top of the palace, firing down into the unarmored space of the guard's neck with well-bred precision. The other guard stepped back and fired a burst, catching the trooper's rifle and blowing it out of his hands but he spun, tripping her and drawing a curved knife in one instant.

Koon looked between the guard and Mundi. Just before he broke to help her, three commandos opened fire, levelling their repeaters in the nooks of metal plate shields. Koon reflected a blast back, but it dissipated on one of the shields. Another blast hit a clone fighting Mundi, but its twin caught Mundi in the side. He collapsed, sweeping his saber to create distance and time to recover.

The ARC brought the knife down to gut the guard, but she rolled out of the way, firing a burst upward and glancing him in the shin, chest, and shoulder. His armor took the brunt, but the force still sent him back, the blade almost twisting out of its grasp.

Koon sprinted towards Mundi, reflecting the next volley of laserfire at the remainder of the squad surrounding him. He stood over Mundi, saber ready, as he struggled up. The commandos slowly advanced, alternating fire so that at least two were firing at the same time.

Koon redirected each shot away, a new sheen of sweat developing on his brow. "Are you alright?"

"I can stand." Mundi deflected bolts back at a clone, but again their shields negated the blows. It took everything to block at this pace, and he didn't have the time to focus a movement with the force. There wasn't even enough time to pivot and direct a couple of shots at the ARC fighting that guard.

The guard had gotten to a knee, firing with good form. The clone was swift, dodging most of her fire, but each new hit scored his armor with char and scratch. As another trio of commandos approached, she finally stood. But the trooper flipped back and flung the body of the other guard at her, hitting her square and knocking her again onto her back. She struggled, the rifle caught between her and the corpse, as the gloved grasp of the ARC reached down to tear her neck apart.

A lightsaber cut the armored hand away, continuing on into his left leg. As he soundlessly fell, Anakin dipped the blade into his heart.

Obi-Wan landed besides him, pushing his arm forward and creating a wave of force, smashing the first squad of commandos together, scattering their shields and crushing their armor. Seeing this, Plo threw his saber, guiding it above the shields into two of the approaching soldiers before reaching out and calling it back. The guard quickly pivoted, and as the final trooper halted and notched his repeater atop his shield, her blaster caught his helmet, shattering it and the skull beyond.

For a moment, nothing. The battle echoed from elsewhere, but it had departed here. Anakin helped the guard to her feet, Obi-Wan moving to join the other jedi. Mundi turned away, keeping watch, as Plo Koon stood to meet him.

"We appreciate your assistance, Master Kenobi."

"Of course. I fear that we'll need yours. We need to find Palpatine."

"He's here? Where?"

"We are not yet aware, but—"

"But Dooku does." Mundi said, still scanning for danger. "He was with Master Windu, and neither are answering comms."

"They were supposed to be administering the compound at Station Six."

"Then let's end this."

"Master, I don't want to be impertinent." Anakin approached, the guard a few hesitant steps behind. "But remember that Dooku was not a part of Palpatine's plan— no more than any of us."

"I know it full well, knight."

"I am angry too."

"Angry? You—"

"Angry, and confused too. But we have to put that aside for now, or Palpatine will exploit it. When we face him, we can't bare a trace of darkness or we'll fail."

Plo Koon nodded. "And we will face him in the same way we face Dooku."

"Very well, very well." Mundi shook his head. "Station six is that way, I believe. Keep lively."

The four jedi strode forward, their perfect robes tattered in places, their foreheads misted with sweat. The guard had never seen jedi this way. They had always seemed so collected, perfect, untouched by the world. During the negotiations, they had been alien. But now, striding so gracelessly through the world, with all of its ash and pain, they were angels.

One of the angels turned back and saw her standing rapt. He nodded softly for her to follow, and she ran, clutching her rifle, into Hell.


	19. In Return

"It is nothing to worry about." Padme said. "If your safety was actually threatened—"

"Did you think us fools?" San Hill yelled. "That we would not have contingencies?"

"That's enough." Tambor said, and though it was projected at a normal volume it seemed to echo through the room. "It is done." He turned to Padme and gestured over the maps and charts and drafts. "We are so close to finding peace. Please, chancellor, restore our communications."

There was nothing in his goggled eyes. No coldness or hate, but no hint of anything that told her he was capable of anything except opportunism. She saw only her own reflection— tired, defiant. Padme turned to Typho and nodded. As he punched a few commands into a panel, she held her arms open.

"Congratulations. You have us at your—" But they were not listening. Each of the separatist leaders was giving orders through their communicators, demanding updates, barking troop landing coordinates. "You're…" Padme said. "You're helping? You're not going to demand concessions in return?"

Tambor briefly looked up, the blank face of a mask, before returning to his transmission.

"Commander Typho, please notify whomever we have left that reinforcements are on their way." Padme watched as Poggle and Gunray stacked the documents for the peace deal to the side as San Hill tapped a few commands into the table, and a topographic map of the area came to life.

Elsewhere, Dooku and Windu watched as a line of melted metal crawled across the bulkhead. Windu look around, his good hand covering his arm slick with blood. His eyes interrogated computer screens and readouts, searching for some final advantage.

Dooku was silent, watching the door, counting his breaths. As he focused, Windu's anxiety was deafened. He sensed that everywhere, a madrigal of pain was being performed as the heroes of a generation faced quick, confusing deaths. A force user of great sympathy would be dazed by it, unable to send out their perceptions. Dooku had no sympathy. He had his master's detachment from the feelings of others. Both his masters', he noted.

His mind proceeded through the door. Three engineers splicing through, a squad of eight troopers covering them. Past that, the rest of a platoon of troopers had taken up position facing the hallway, and another platoon was supporting them, from positions farther on— taking positions in trees and behind crags. A pair of engineers had split from that platoon to apply explosive charges to the exterior of the building, just on the other side of the wall from Dooku and Windu. The resultant blast would kill anyone in the room.

Dooku opened his eyes, and his mind snapped back. He glanced at the Jedi, still pacing. If they opened the doors now, they might be able to reflect enough blasts to cut their way through the hallway, but even then they wouldn't be able to break through the clone position.

Maybe if Windu stayed, and lived long enough, Dooku could escape.

Yes, that could do.

He turned to Jedi Master Mace Windu, the Blade of Geonosis. "We can't wait."

To his credit, Mace did not show his fear. "Alright. Let's go." With his good hand he pressed the button, and the bulkhead screeched open.

Ki Adi Mundi turned back. "We'll have to proceed slowly from here." His words were punctuated by staccato bursts of laserfire from ahead. "They shouldn't be able to hear us, but remain mindful."

Anakin looked back at the guard. She wore a face of fear, stained with steadfastness. She had barely kept up with their acrobatic strides in the armor she wore, but never spoke a word of complaint. "What is your name?"

"Tana, master Jedi."

"Oh, I'm not—" He scoffed. Once, whether or not he was a jedi master had seemed like the most important thing to him. "You've done good work, Tana."

"Thank you." She averted her glance, blushing. "I serve as the republic commands."

Obi-Wan scanned the treeline. "You've done more than your station demands. When this battle ends I'll request a commendation for you."

Tana looked up. "That's very—" She froze. Dooku stood before them, his cloak tattered and burnt. His eyes flashed past her, quickly ruling her beneath his notice.

"Dooku." Mundi growled.

Plo Koon stepped between them. "Where is master Windu?"

"I— I'm sorry," Dooku's voice shook expertly, each inflection just as planned. "I'm afraid— there were too many and— the Jedi didn't make it out. He— I'm sorry."

"What?" Anakin said. "Master Windu could not fall."

"He did."

Plo Koon nodded. "I sense the truth of his words."

"What did you do?" Mundi grabbed Dooku roughly. The Sith leaned away, hand hovering over his lightsaber. "How did you do it?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Dooku said unconvincingly.

"Master Mundi," Obi-Wan said, "We cannot do this now. If Master Windu truly is— we need Dooku."

"We don't need him. I could end it right now." He sneered, and pushed Dooku away. "But killing him is not the Jedi way."

"Most kind to yourself to think you could." Dooku said. "But Sidious."

"We cannot sense him." Obi-Wan said. "The Force is being clouded."

"Then we must—" Back in the direction that Dooku had come, a chain of explosions and rending metal echoed. Staccato bursts of blaster reports followed.

"Confederate weapons." Anakin said at once. "They're attacking."

"Our enemies, it would seem." Obi-Wan closed his eyes, listening. "There's one coming."

"I hear it too."

The hum of an engine roared from the direction of the station, soon joined by another. Two STAPs shot towards them, stopping and hovering a few feet. One droid scanned for movement from elsewhere as the other turned to Dooku.

"Count Dooku. The corvette _Independence_ is landing 2.3 klicks east from this position. It has conducted a thorough scan of the geography within 80 miles of the palace. It has detected several bunkers or underground bases and is in the process of clearing them. You are to take the forces aboard _Independence_ to the most likely bunker to contain former Republic chancellor Sheev Palpatine."

Dooku glanced back at the Jedi. "On whose orders am I to do this?"

"Acting head of state and Emir of the Techno-Union Wat Tambor."

"Excellent. Execute activation code sixty-six."

The droid halted, seeming to die out for a moment, before chirping "Confirmed. Command rank reinstated. Awaiting order."

"Take us to this bunker."

"Roger roger."

"And have the ship's communications send a message. I want the organic staff working with the Master Control Signal rotated and the facility locked down."

"Roger roger."

They started east, flanked on either side by a STAP. "Dooku." Obi-Wan said. "A Master Control Signal?"

"Sidious would have used it to deactivate the droid armies. It was a contingency we discussed."

"Oh…" A transport hovered towards them. "Good thing, then."


	20. The Set-up

Sidious emerged from the machine, his seared temples battering at his brain. He had hoped to be the other one, thinking other thoughts, wondering how much time had passed.

Not much at all, it seemed. He nodded to one of the technicians, who transmitted the scan. Not much need for secrecy now. How many Jedi had been killed here? How many senators? In the grand scheme of things it didn't matter, but morbid satisfaction was all he had left.

As the technicians set to wiping the computer's data banks, the hologram screens showed the same scene, repeated dozens of times along the room. Dooku was coming. Skywalker. Other Jedi. They cut down clones with tired determination, all ultimately meaningless. He had torn the throats out of legends before they were born. His war had killed more people than they had ever met. They had all looked him in the eye and known nothing.

The computers finally wiped, the technicians filed out of the room, two backing out and periodically firing into the drives. The Sith Lord, Darth Sidious, was alone. For some time, he did what he always did when he was alone, fastidiously avoiding that snarl of nerves in the hurricane's eye of his mind. He thought of crueler things, of harder things, of easier things. But that silence spoke to him. It was the silence of distant death, and it was beautiful to him. So, for one last time, he removed that careful hold of his mind, looked in the cracked reflection of a blank screen, and saw himself with his own eyes.

Regret? Never. Fear? He was beyond it. But sorrow? Of course there was sorrow. But a contentedness in sorrow. As he sensed Dooku and the Jedi approaching, he brought back that mental hold. But he had seen himself, and so Darth Sidious smiled.

The doors opened. They stepped forward. From behind them, rows of droidekas rolled to either side, flanking the room as they stood.

"Palpatine," the fool Ki Adi Mundi said. "In the name of the Galactic Senate, you are under arrest."

"Anakin." Sidious said. "I worked so hard. I made you, guided you."

"I am nobody's puppet, Sith."

"It was all so fragile. So desperate. So many things needed to go right. So many things did."

"Not enough." Obi-Wan said. "This ends now."

"Yes." Sidious laughed. "I supposed it does." Projecting clearly, he said "Execute activation code sixty-six." He looked side to side, but the droidekas seem unphased.

Dooku stepped forward. "I had anticipated that. You no longer have administrative access."

"Very good, apprentice. That is the second time I've underestimated you. Unfortunately, there will not be a third time. My agents are even now taking control of the Master Control Signal—"

"They are not. I took precautions against that, too."

"What? But— no!"

"I'm afraid the Confederacy is going to move on without you, master." Dooku ignited his lightsaber, and the Jedi behind him did likewise. "And I believe that's the third time you've underestimated me."

Sidious began to shake and wheeze. With revulsion, Tana realized it was laughter. "No." he hissed. "No, no. You are a _child._ A 'master control signal?' The very idea is absurd."

"You showed it to me." Dooku said flatly.

"No tricks will work here." Mundi spat.

Sidious seemed unfazed. "A signal that would deactivate the entire droid army. Even if it wasn't seized, an enemy could replicate the signal and broadcast it in a localized area."

"It was necessary for the plan you described to me." Dooku said, his blade dipping. "After the Separatist leaders were killed, you needed to be sure the army would cause no further—"

"A localized area." Sidious produced a datapad from the folds of his cloak and depressed a rune in it. The droids slumped back, clattering to the ground. "You will die."

His hands crackled with restless electric charge.

"You forget, master." Dooku smiled, bringing his blade up. "You taught me to diffract lightning."

"True." Sidious threw his head back. "But not to absorb it." Energy arced from his fingertips toward Dooku. He stood his ground, focusing on a single plane as he pivoted into profile, his lightsaber cutting through the lightning.

But it did not dissipate. The electricity flowed around Dooku, seizing on Mundi and Anakin, arcing through to Koon, Obi-Wan, and Tana. After a moment of agony, Mundi brought up his saber, catching the energy. He struggled forward, replacing Dooku in the front.

As he did, Dooku nodded, leaping to flank Sidious. His sweep forced Sidious away, cutting off the lightning. Obi-Wan and Plo Koon moved to further surround him, cutting in turn. As Sidious blocked, he moved swiftly, always keeping them between each other, making them move to accommodate him.

Tana stood in the doorway, aiming her rifle. The crash of sabers sent sparks flying, landing on the dead metal of the droid. "I need a shot." Sidious looked up, as though seeing her for the first time.

Mundi darted back, and for a moment Sidious was exposed, but he followed with Mundi, sticking too close, before peeling off to slash desperately at Anakin.

"Wait." She said. Sidious's movements weren't only to avoid her shot but— "Wait!"

He peeled away again, past Tana, spinning, and putting his saber to her throat. "Don't move, Jedi."

She almost scoffed. Didn't he know this wouldn't work? She was just a guard. The look on their faces confirmed it. He'd blundered. They paused just a moment before rushing in.

But in that moment, she realized. Palpatine had predicted this as well, this instant. Plo Koon's saber dropped for only a moment, but that was the moment that Palpatine sent a blast of lightning into his neck. Her last thought was cut short as the Sith brought his saber from her jaw to her brain stem.

Sidious swept back, the body tumbling down. Anakin and Obi-Wan lept forward, delivering a coordinated attack, but Sidious slipped past them. Plo Koon was gasping, swaying, and with one blow Sidious ended his life as well.

Mundi roared as he threw himself at Sidious. His famous defense was gone now, but his strikes were so ferocious Sidious couldn't respond except to block the next strike. "Lightning! Now!" Mundi said. "Dooku!"

"Get clear." Obi-Wan said, but Dooku understood Mundi's meaning. He blasted both of them, the feedback between them too disparate for Sidious to absorb. Sidious staggered back, life draining from his face. Mundi seemed to recover quickly, bringing down in saber for a definite strike.

Sidious pushed out weakly with the Force. Just as Mundi brought his lightsaber down, it was deactivated and its blade extinguished. "Weak fool." he said, ramming his own into Mundi's head.

"You do not all need to die."

Dooku approached, keeping his guard up. "You should save your breath, master."

"Do not deign—" but Dooku delivered a pack of swipes, forcing Sidious to bat them away, stepping back. Anakin and Obi-Wan stood on either side of him, jabbing and slicing.

Sidious backed onto Mundi, stumbling. As he did, Obi-Wan's blade ran through the handle of his saber and the top third of his hand. He fell back, crying out.

Dooku's blade hovered over his throat. "Ironic. You could save others from death, but not—" He shot upwards, flung off the ground until he collided with the ceiling, stuck to it by a crushing force.

Sidious turned to Anakin and Obi-Wan. His mind pushed forward through the Force, throwing them against the wall. His hand had begun to bleed, but it pooled weightlessly around him. "Unlimited. I'm—" But the words wouldn't come. Instead, his eyes bulged and the air fought its way painfully out of his lungs.

Obi-Wan managed to turn his head to see Anakin, somehow able to move his arm. It was outstretched towards Sidious, through the Force, choking him. As Sidious choked, Obi-Wan found himself able to move with less effort. Dooku was falling back slowly to the floor.

"I— I'm—" He was on his knees, his pale face pock-marked with bursting splotches of blood. As Dooku descended, he reignited his lightsaber. Landing lightly, he nodded to Anakin and decapitated Sidious.

"Now then, shall we return to the palace?"


	21. Bitter Peace

Dozens of Republic ships hung over Serenno. On the planet below, soldiers and leaders filed out of hard-won landing spots. And no one fired a shot.

It was the calm before a storm that would never come.

Dooku pushed lightly on the door. He looked back at Padme, smiled, and gestured for her to go first. His bright uniform, with gold trim and sash, and his clipped hair made him almost unrecognizable as the man who had ordered her death on Geonosis.

She stepped towards the podium at the edge of the stage. Below, the room was filled with negotiators, diplomats, and business leaders all hoping that it would be their faces painted in the portraits that commemorated these moments. Dozens of floating drones recorded the proceedings, all turning to focus on her as she leaned towards the amplifier.

"Fellow citizens of the Galactic Republic…" She paused a moment and looked meaningfully into one of the drone's recorder. "Citizens of the Confederacy of In—" but the rest of it was drowned out by cheers. She looked down at her notes, and put them away, laughing.

Dooku was beside her. "Friends. Friends. We are pleased to announce not only peace, but partnership between those who were once enemies." The crowd quieted. "A robust set of trade laws will bring our two states together, and ensure the prosperity of our citizens." Another cheer rose, mostly from the Separatist corners of the room. Dooku stepped back, looking at her coldly. It was a demanding look— this next part was hers.

Smiling, she recalled the phrases she had memorized. "This also marks the beginning of a new era of freedom and safety in the galaxy. The combined armies of our two people will take part in humanitarian missions on the outer rim. No longer will liberty be an assurance only in the core systems." A round of applause began, and she spoke over it. "The slave trade is wrong here, it is wrong everywhere, and we are going to end it."

A final wave of cheering erupted, and they retreated back to their cadres. Wat Tambor and Poggle conferred with Dooku, while Padme walked towards Vancil and Anakin.

"Excellent work, chancellor. Excellent. Those words will be repeated for generations."

Anakin beamed. "I'm— I— that speech meant a lot."

But Padme was not smiling. She dared not look back at the cacophony of yelling, clapping, and whistling behind her. "So this is how democracy dies. To—"

"No." Wat Tambor stood before them, adjusting his voice modulator. "This is how democracy survives— not in unanimous applause, but through hard-fought compromise."

Padme searched for words, but Vancil picked it up. "Well said, Emir. Now, if you'll excuse us, the chancellor needs some rest." He led her away, Anakin following close behind them. "Compromise?" Vancil hissed under his breathe. "The Separatists didn't compromise a single point."

"The Confederates saved everyone on that planet, including you, Horace." Padme said. "They had the chance to withhold their forces as leverage, but they chose to help us before they had any certainty of getting anything out of it."

"Perhaps they knew that their intervention would make them heroes at the negotiating table."

"Perhaps. Perhaps we should give people like Wat Tambor a chance to be decent."

"Decent, yes." They proceeded into a private room, with a balcony overlooking the sea at high tide. "Decent enough to trade one war for another."

"A war to end slavery." Anakin said. "Even if the outer rim somehow unifies, it stands no chance of defeating our combined navies in the field."

"Such things are hardly simple, master Jedi."

"Oh, I don't think Anakin is a master yet." Padme said, shooting a reconciliatory look.

"Of course. My mistake. Perhaps once the remaining masters reconvene, they will grant you one of the open spots."

Anakin frowned. "Too many good Jedi died on Alderaan."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Of course not." Anakin bowed his head. "I apologize for losing my temper."

"The fault is all mine." Vancil looked between Anakin and Padme, then started hesitantly for the door. "Please, chancellor, contact me if you need anything."

The door opened, and closed, and they were alone together. She started to say something, but it was easier to step out onto the balcony. He followed slowly, suddenly aware of a strange stirring, an anticipation.

"You've changed." was all she said.

He blinked. "Padme, please. What have I—"

"You're not the boy I met or the man I fell in love with." She stared at the ocean, and spoke through a pair of tears. "You're wiser now, I can tell, and it's made you kinder, softer, more aware."

"Padme?"

"You're a Jedi. It's your identity, now. I'd always thought that you might quit, or they'd send you away, and then we—"

"Padme."

"But now? Now when you're going to be a Jedi master? When you _are_ a master? I can't expect you to—"

"Padme. Look at me."

He was almost laughing. She wiped a tear from her cheek and turned. His grin was wider than she had ever seen. "I sense it now. I sense it." He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm going to be a father." Anakin gently lifted her and spun around. "A father."

And she laughed with him.

Because his joy wasn't a detached Jedi's joy. It wasn't a brief respite from fear, anger, or hate. Their lives were complicated, but they were no longer just a princess and a knight. Nothing smacked of melodrama anymore. Any heroes, as it were, had made their journeys. There would be many difficult choices they'd have to face, and very many people in the galaxy would suffer because this peace was the best they could do, but for a few people the end of the Clone Wars was the beginning of a very happy life.


End file.
